The Golden Hairpin

"Where's the hydrangea painting now?" Zhou Ziqin asked.

"I don't know about that... At some point, the hydrangea was replaced with a pine tree—just wait a moment." Qi Fu walked to the door and shouted outside, "Ah Gui! Ah Gui!"

A boy of about fourteen or fifteen came running over. "Uncle Fu, what is it?"

"Aren’t you the one who takes care of the master’s study? What happened to the hydrangea painting inside?"

The boy tilted his head, looking at the pine tree painting in confusion. "How would I know? Maybe the master thought the pine tree looked better, so he changed it."

"Get out of here!" Qi Fu waved him away impatiently, then turned back with an apologetic smile. "Seems the master changed it himself. We servants just have to go along with his whims, don’t we?"

It appeared that Qi Teng had been lax in managing his household. Now that he was dead, the residence was in complete disarray, making it impossible to investigate properly.

Huang Zixiao signaled for Qi Fu to leave, then she and Zhou Ziqin searched the room for clues. Zhou Ziqin immediately began rummaging through the bookshelves and drawers, while Huang Zixiao circled the room. She spotted something in the wastepaper basket and reached in to retrieve it.

It was a dark blue pouch. The color was subdued, the style old-fashioned, and the embroidered agapanthus was rigid and lifeless—clearly the work of an unskilled hand.

Huang Zixiao held the pouch up, examining it closely. Zhou Ziqin leaned over for a look and said, "Probably an old pouch. The color’s faded, so Qi Teng must have thrown it away."

Huang Zixiao shook her head. "Though the color is understated, this agapanthus pattern is typically used by women, symbolizing fertility. Do you think a judge like Qi would use such a design?"

Zhou Ziqin scratched his head sheepishly. "But why would young women use such a dull color?"

"Young women might not, but older women certainly would, don’t you think?"

Zhou Ziqin’s mouth formed a perfect "O." "So... it’s a keepsake from his mother?"

Huang Zixiao sighed. "A keepsake from his mother, tossed in the wastepaper basket? And Qi Teng came from a prominent family—would his mother really use a pouch of such poor craftsmanship? Does it even qualify as a keepsake?"

Zhou Ziqin blinked. "Then..."

"Have you forgotten what Tang Zhuniang’s nephew, Tang Sheng, said? Tang Zhuniang once pulled out a pouch but then tucked it back, saying she’d take it home to exchange for a pair of silver hairpins—yet when we examined her belongings after her death, that pouch was missing, wasn’t it?"

Zhou Ziqin suddenly understood. "The killer took her pouch when he pushed her off the cliff!"

"Very likely, this is the pouch." Huang Zixiao held up the empty pouch.

"But Qi Teng was wealthy—why would he rob a servant of her money?" Zhou Ziqin thought for a moment, then added, "Or maybe someone else saw an opportunity and robbed her on the mountain path, and Qi Teng just happened to find the pouch?"

"If it were a robbery, the bundle would’ve been ransacked. Why were the clothes inside still neatly folded? The culprit clearly targeted this pouch—subdued her, took it from her bundle, and then pushed her off the cliff."

Zhou Ziqin’s eyes widened in realization. "Her nephew!"Huang Zixiao sighed helplessly, "If her nephew was truly that vicious, he would have snatched the pouch from her right there in Shuangxi Alley when she took it back. Why would he need to chase her all the way out later to kill his aunt and rob her?"

Zhou Ziqin asked again, "But why would Magistrate Qi want to snatch Tang Zhuniang's pouch? And why discard it afterward?"

"Because the pouch itself wasn’t important—what was inside mattered greatly. Perhaps it could reveal his identity."

As she spoke, Huang Zixiao tucked the pouch away and handed it to him.

Zhou Ziqin carefully stored it, then suddenly looked up and tugged at her sleeve. "Look, look."

Huang Zixiao noticed Qi Fu and his group stealthily hiding something again and said dismissively, "Never mind. Let’s focus on finding what we need first."

"But what exactly do we need?" Zhou Ziqin asked, aimlessly following her as she rummaged through the items.

From a thick stack of documents, Huang Zixiao pulled out a slightly yellowed sheet and placed it before him. "For example, this."

Zhou Ziqin glanced at it, and his eyes lit up. "A letter in Zhong Hui’s handwriting?"

"Moreover, it’s dated the ninth day of the twelfth month in the first year of the Jiaping era, signed by Zhong Hui, Secretary of the Imperial Secretariat." She laid it on the table calmly. "This must be the very letter Wen Yang once asked Yu Xuan to study."

"How strange... Why would this be here? Didn’t it belong to Wen Yang?" Zhou Ziqin picked it up, examining it before peering at the other letters in her hand. "And what are these?"

Huang Zixiao spread them out before him. "Gilded paper, Xue Tao stationery, peach blossom seals—what do you think?"

Zhou Ziqin leaned in for a closer look, only to catch a whiff of perfumed powder. Hesitantly, he asked, "These couldn’t be... love letters, could they?"

"Exactly. And all from courtesans." Huang Zixiao picked one up and read aloud:

"On the pillow, magpies sing of joy;

Languidly I rise to admire the blossoms.

All day, auspicious signs abound—

Yet still, my longing remains unseen."

—Written by Juanjuan of Changchun Garden on a winter’s day, warming her hands.

Zhou Ziqin was moved. "The poetry may not be exceptional, but the sentiment is truly touching..."

"These poems are just templates written by someone barely literate in their brothels, then copied for each girl to pass off as their own when they meet patrons who fancy refinement—all to cultivate an air of talent." Huang Zixiao flipped through a few more, finding similar themes: yearning, resentment, waiting, all signed with flowery pen names like "Lanlan, penned at midnight dreams," "Yuanyuan, testing her brush by red candlelight," or "Xiaoyu, composing after dressing." Each was more heartfelt and poignant than the last.

Zhou Ziqin marveled at the spectacle, then added with a mix of relief and lingering dread, "Thank goodness Ziyan didn’t marry someone like this, or she’d have been driven to despair."

Huang Zixiao couldn’t help but ask about his sister. "Now that her betrothed has passed, she must be heartbroken?"

"Not at all. She’s already actively searching for the next candidate." As he spoke, Zhou Ziqin suddenly paused, pulling out a sheet of snow-wave paper from the stack. "Hmm... this one seems unusual."

Huang Zixiao took it and noticed the elegant blue lattice pattern on the paper, a refined departure from the gaudy, perfumed stationery of the courtesans.She read the words on it and found them different from the others as well—

"Once resented for sharing a peach, once delighted in cut sleeves. The capital brims with dignitaries, yet the young master stands peerless."

Zhou Ziqin covered his face with a look of disdain. "This patchwork is just awful... Why not hire someone better to ghostwrite it?"

Huang Zixiao pointed to the signature below. "Never mind the poem, look here."

Zhou Ziqin examined it closely but saw nothing unusual. "Night Roaming Court, Songfeng, deeply admires Zijing."

"Night Roaming Court... Songfeng?" Zhou Ziqin seemed to chew over something unusual in the words.

"Mm. Do you remember what Fan Yuanlong mentioned last time? He went to Night Roaming Court to find a male courtesan. So, I think this must be one of those... southern breeze establishments in Chengdu."

Zhou Ziqin's mouth formed a perfect "O," his face glowing with excitement. "So, we can visit a pleasure house on official business? And it's... a southern breeze one? Ah, my parents are strict—I’ve never been to such a place before. I’m so nervous, what should I do?"

Huang Zixiao saw no trace of nervousness on his face—only excitement and anticipation. After a moment’s thought, she set the letter aside and headed out. "I need to go back first."

Zhou Ziqin hurried after her. "Go back for what?"

She lowered her head slightly, a little guilty. "To report to Prince Kui first."

Zhou Ziqin nodded thoughtfully. "Right, an eunuch visiting a pleasure quarter—if you don’t explain it to your superior beforehand, how will you expense it later?"

Then it struck him, and he chased after her again. "Hey, hey, Chonggu, wait! The yamen’s footing the bill anyway—why bother telling Prince Kui?"

When they arrived at Li Shubai’s quarters, the scene was rather awkward.

An old steward from the military governor’s office was leading a group of beauties out. Spotting Huang Zixiao and the others, he immediately put on an ingratiating smile and hurried over. "Ah, Eunuch Yang, you’re back?"

Huang Zixiao glanced at the women behind him and instantly understood the situation. She merely nodded without a word.

"Military Governor Fan was concerned that His Highness might feel lonely so far from home, with no one to play the qin or tend the incense, so he bought a few outstanding girls from good families to send over. But His Highness doesn’t seem interested..."

Huang Zixiao replied, "His Highness has always been fastidious and dislikes others getting too close. It’s the same in his own residence. Steward Liu needn’t trouble himself with selecting maids anymore."

Steward Liu suddenly had an epiphany. "Ah, I see. Then in a few days, I’ll find some well-mannered young men instead."

"Wait, that’s not what I meant—" Before Huang Zixiao could stop him, the steward, now convinced he had uncovered a secret, eagerly led the group of women away.

Huang Zixiao and Zhou Ziqin exchanged glances, both wearing expressions of someone with a toothache.

When Li Shubai heard their account upon their return, he also looked resigned. "Let them be. In any case, planting spies around me won’t be easy."

Zhang Xingying declared solemnly, "Though I stand alone, I vow to defend Your Highness’s safety with my life!"

Li Shubai glanced at him and said flatly, "The military governors from several nearby garrisons have arrived. I’ll meet with them today. Among them are a few I once commanded in Xuzhou. I’ll select some trusted men from their ranks. You needn’t bear the burden alone—it’s too taxing."

"Your subordinate..." Zhang Xingying scratched his head, unsure how to respond.Huang Zixiao knew he was a straightforward man, usually stumbling over his words, let alone understanding the layers of meaning in Li Shubai's statement. So she quickly spoke up, "This afternoon, I need to ask for leave to go to Wutong Street with Zhou Ziqin."

To Huang Zixiao's surprise, Li Shubai showed no reaction at all, merely waving his hand and saying, "Go ahead."

She hesitated slightly, while Zhou Ziqin, thinking Li Shubai might not know where Wutong Street was, added, "It's that... the most famous pleasure district in Chengdu, Wutong Street."

Li Shubai nodded and stood up to leave, saying, "Hmm."

Huang Zixiao was uneasy, observing Li Shubai's expression, but he seemed completely unfazed and asked, "Are there any leads on Qi Teng's death yet?"

"There are some, but they're not substantial enough." Huang Zixiao nodded, remembering she had brought the testimonies from the group earlier, and handed them to him, saying, "After Your Highness left that day, we questioned everyone present. Their statements are here."

Li Shubai took them and quickly scanned each page, glancing at each for only a moment. Then, he paused at Yu Xuan's statement.

Huang Zixiao leaned in beside him, bending to look at the testimony, but found no obvious discrepancies. After a moment of contemplation, she turned to Li Shubai, only to find his gaze fixed on the very end of the testimony—where Yu Xuan had pressed a handprint.

By protocol, anyone involved in a case would have their statements recorded by a designated scribe, then sign and leave a fingerprint to ensure authenticity and prevent false statements from interfering with official duties.

Yu Xuan's hand was slender, with well-proportioned joints, leaving an exceptionally elegant imprint.

As she stared at it in slight daze, she heard Li Shubai's voice, soft as a sigh, saying, "I've seen this handprint before."